don’t look at me like that (stony)
there was something quite hypnotic about steve rogers’ eyes, something that tony couldn’t quite put his finger on. they were blue, but just not quite like the 17% percent of the population with blue eyes; they were different.
they weren’t blue like oceans or gems, they were blue like the feeling of leather and the sound of jazz music. they were the sound of rain on the streets of late night manhattan. they were the feeling of a cool, silent room.
tony stark couldn’t get enough of them, to be honest.
he didn’t often get to look /down/ at steve rogers. today was a special occasion.
steve cleared his throat. “don’t look at me like that.”
“like what?”
“you look like you’re gonna eat me.”
“maybe I will.”
it was a little astonishing how small the super soldier looked on his knees. tony really, /really/, wanted to ruin him. he wanted to get his grubby little hands on the super soldier and make him sob and writhe and whine.
so, he did.
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